CHAPTER EIGHT

E van

The room is empty and dark when I wake up, and Lindsay Lohan has vanished from the screen. I throw off the blanket that someone has tucked over me and make my way upstairs.

It’s easy to find them.

Stella’s voice isn’t exactly quiet. I probably should sign her up for choir. I add it to my list of dad duties.

“I will vanquish the dragon!” Vinnie’s voice booms.

I blink.

I press open the door.

“An intruder is entering!” Stella screams.

“Do not fear, fair damsel,” Vinnie says. “I have sworn to protect you!”

I enter the room.

There, in front of me, is Vinnie.

One of Stella’s blankets is tied around his wide neck like a cape. He wields a plastic sword that looks like an oversized knife.

“Vinnie?”

“ Sir Vinnie,” Stella corrects.

Vinnie’s eyes sparkle. “You heard Princess Stella.”

“Princess Isabella,” Stella corrects. “That’s fancier.”

“Princess Isabella the Awesomest,” Vinnie says.

Stella giggles. “They didn’t say awesome in those days.”

“No?” Vinnie asks.

Stella shakes her head determinedly. “Haven’t you seen any movies with princes?”

“Not in a while.”

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” I say.

“Daddy, you can play the prince!” Stella exclaims.

“Guess you have to call me Your Highness,” I tell Vinnie.

“Is that so?” Vinnie’s eyes sparkle.

Vinnie’s eyes never sparkle.

He always looks solemn and sullen and sour.

But somehow, playing dress up with my kid makes the difference. Suddenly, now he’s happy.

Something glows inside of me.

“You need a crown, Daddy,” Stella says, giving me her tiara.

I place it on my head. The pink rhinestones are probably blinding Vinnie. That must be the reason he’s still smiling.

“It’s tilted,” Vinnie says, stretching out his hands. “Let me fix it for you.”

He fiddles with the tiara, and I am aware of the short distance between us and the warmth of his fingers. Something tightens in my chest, and my breath becomes uneven.

Vinnie frowns. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” The words come out hoarser than I intended, and for some reason, I can’t pull my gaze away from his wrists and the way the light shines on the dark hairs that spring from it.

Vinnie is all masculinity.

“You look flushed,” Vinnie says.

“Do I?”

“Yeah. You do.” His brows move together, and I don’t like the way his eyes are scanning me. I don’t like the way my pulse quickens, and I don’t like the way my breath comes out more erratic than before.

“Does your head hurt?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Not more than before.”

He nods gravely. “And that was—”

“I’m fine, Vinnie,” I say.

We’re only inches apart, and I’m conscious of the way the light splatters over his face. It’s a nice face. Sturdy and reassuring.

I pull my gaze away, unsure why I’m contemplating the attractiveness of his face.

It’s not the first time I’ve found myself thinking that about men, and I don’t want to go there. This is the man who avoids me, after all.

“Maybe you should sit down,” he says.

“Okay,” I say, because I’d rather he think I’m acting off because of my health than because of him. I mean, I probably am acting off because of my health. Obviously.

Vinnie leads me expertly through the toy-strewn room, then places me on a pillow. I try to maintain some semblance of dignity. I doubt I’m successful.

“He needs a castle,” Stella says. “A prince needs a castle.”

“I agree, Stella.” Vinnie’s eyes simmer, and his lips turn into a smirk. A wave of something, that I’m so not going to call desire, rolls through me. He looks around the room.

His eyes dart to Stella’s chair. “I think this would make an excellent tower.”

“You do?”

He growls at me. “I do.”

Vinnie puts the chair behind me, then ties some of Stella’s sheets to it.

“You’ll need to rewash them.”

“Worth it,” Vinnie says.

I grin.

“I think this is more like a tent than a tower,” I say.

“You’re welcome to buy Stella some supplies for constructing more realistic medieval towers,” he says.

“It’s beautiful, Daddy,” Stella says.

I peer up from the sheets billowing around the chair that Vinnie has tied to various bookcases and Stella’s desk.

“You’re insane,” I say.

“You’ve never built a fort before, McAllister?” Vinnie teases. “What do you think, Stella?”

“I love it!” Stella says.

“Maybe you want to play the princess, Stella,” I say, removing the tiara. “I could join Vinnie and be another knight.”

Stella rolls her eyes. “I don’t need two knights, Daddy. And I’m going to play the dragon!”

“Oh, no!” Vinnie covers his eyes. “You’re not Stella, the fiercest dragon of the land?”

“I am.” Stella giggles happily, and something in my heart warms.

Then Stella roars at Vinnie, and he puts his hand over his heart in mock distress.

“I’m scared!” Vinnie says.

“You can’t be scared,” Stella says, more seriously. “You need to rescue the prince.”

“Right.” Vinnie nods. “Good feedback.” His eyes narrow, and he grins, maneuvering the plastic sword like someone who has watched a lot of samurai movies. “I will save the prince.”

Something bubbles in my chest.

Vinnie saunters around the room, and Stella stalks after him, roaring.

I’m not sure if dragons roar, but Stella is doing her best to be frightening. Then Stella climbs onto her bed and jumps onto Vinnie. He staggers back but holds onto her firmly. She uses both hands as claws.

I’m not sure if Stella is behaving like a good host, but both Stella and Vinnie seem to enjoy the moment.

Finally, Vinnie directs his sword at her. “I will defend the prince.”

“Never!” Stella shouts.

Vinnie hesitates.

“Now you should kill me,” she whispers.

I snort.

Vinnie does more fancy maneuvers with the plastic sword, then Stella clutches her throat and gasps. He sets her onto the bed gently as she continues her death scene. Finally, after she stills, he turns to me.

“I have rescued you, Fair Prince,” Vinnie declares, his eyes gleaming. He stretches out his hand, and I take it.

His hand is warm, his grip firm. I tumble up beside him, and his eyes widen as he steadies me.

“Now you need to kiss!” Stella exclaims.

My eyes jerk to Vinnie’s. They are wide.

“Vinnie is a man,” I say, my voice rough.

“Men can be together,” Stella scolds me. “Holly has two daddies.”

“Holly is Stella’s best friend,” I say apologetically to Evan.

“Ex-best friend,” Stella corrects me. “Now Bridget is my best friend. Don’t you pay attention to anything?”

“I thought Holly and you are still friends.”

“She’s okay,” Stella admits.

I blink, unsure about navigating second-grader female friendships.

“Anyway, Vinnie and I can’t kiss,” I say.

“Why?” Stella’s face falls. “I thought you were friends. And Vinnie rescued you. There’s always a kiss at the end of every fairytale.”

I open my mouth, unsure how I’m going to protest, but knowing that I need to. I want Stella to think it’s normal for men to kiss. I don’t want to teach her about homophobia.

I look up at Vinnie. His gaze softens.

“I think we should obey the little dragon,” he says. “Is that okay?”

“You don’t mind?” I ask, my voice trembling.

“Not if you don’t.”

“Okay.”

Then he swoops me into a movie star kiss, and I can hear Stella squealing. Then, ever so gently, he presses his lips to mine.

The kiss is tender and brief, but my heart explodes, and I gaze at him unsteadily when he lifts me back to a standing position.